


take it, take it (love me, love me)

by fictionalcandie



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Community: kradamadness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalcandie/pseuds/fictionalcandie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn. (Or, the one where Kris is watching porn on his laptop and Adam walks in.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	take it, take it (love me, love me)

Kris can’t see the screen. Given the noises coming from the tinny laptop speakers, Kris doesn’t need to.

It’s not about what he can see, anyway, not really, not with the staged feeling of the video he turned on. But it’s porn; porn is staged. Kris knows that.

Kris only watches it for the ideas it puts in his head, anyway.

The porn itself doesn’t really do anything for him, the actors don’t interest him — but when the bigger man pushes the other against the wall, or bends him over a table, or tips him onto a sofa, or really does anything to him, just moves him how the bigger man wants him, just spreading the smaller man out and pushing into his slighter frame, well. When that happens, it’s pretty easy for Kris to replace them in his head with Adam and himself.

The porn in Kris’s head, where Adam fucks him on just about every available surface, that’s what Kris really gets off on.

The noises, on the other hand, do help, because as ridiculous as they might sound sometimes, they always inevitably remind him of what it is he’s watching, listening to, which makes him think of porn, and all the porny things Adam could do with him if given the chance.

It’s therefore not exactly surprising that he doesn’t hear the door click open.

He hears Adam, though. He always hears Adam.

“Holy— fucking shit,” Adam says.

Kris looks over, startled, and sees Adam frozen just inside the doorway.

Adam’s eyes are wide, his lips parted, and there’s a flush on his cheeks under the freckles showing where he’s obviously removed his makeup. Kris swallows convulsively, his mouth suddenly dry, and thinks maybe he should take his fingers out of his ass now.

He arches up into them, instead, moaning high and sharp.

Adam remains frozen for centuries which last several seconds, then he’s repeating Kris’s name like something profane and precious, moving quickly until he’s by Kris’s bed, kneeling up on it and reaching for Kris with a shaking hand that doesn’t actually connect.

“What are you even...” he says, marveling, and he looks like he thinks he must be dreaming. “ _Kris_.”

Kris has had dreams like this, but none of them managed to quite match the way Adam speaks his name, so he knows this is actually happening. The knowledge makes his toes curl and his skin pebble, because Adam’s weight dipping the bed next to Kris is real, and Adam’s staring like he wants to touch.

“Um,” Kris says eloquently, thinking of how he could say _I’m getting off, want to help?_ or _please, fuck, Adam, please Adam come on_.

“You like this?” says Adam. He’s not looking at the men on the laptop screen, not listening to the low, faked moans coming from them. He’s staring at Kris, Kris with his hands between his own legs and his bottom lip between his teeth to keep any noises in.

He traces a fingertip around Kris’s hole, where he’s stretched around two fingers, red and slick with lube, repeating “You like _this_?” and Kris hisses, bucking up involuntarily, and Adam’s fingertip slips away.

“Can I,” Adam says, and he sounds wrecked the way Kris feels already, “will you let me, can I, Kris—”

“Yes,” gasps Kris, because of course, of course he will, and Adam’s finger is back.

It circles his hole again, more firmly but teasing still, and then it’s just pure pressure, pushing in.

Kris can handle three fingers (of his own, at least, he thinks, but he’s only done it once and he was pretty drunk then) and he used plenty of lube, probably more than he really needed to, he’s practically dripping with it, but Adam doesn’t have any and his finger is bigger than Kris’s, longer and thicker — it slides in easy, quick and deep like it hasn’t even occurred to Adam that maybe it’s more than Kris can take, but there’s a stretch that makes Kris’s toes curl and a burn that has his breath hissing out between his teeth again.

“Adam,” he says when he can, and wriggles down against the fingers, his and Adam’s, just feeling them inside, holding him open and filling him up. It’s different than when he does it himself, somehow impossibly better and _more_ and Kris doesn’t— he can’t—

Adam is breathing hard above Kris, like he’s just been running or holding a bazillion notes for longer than normal humans can manage or something, and when Kris breathes out his name a second time, Adam shudders and crooks his finger sharply, pushing Kris’s fingers with it so all three press against something inside him that feels like lightning running up and down his body.

“Oh, _God_.”

“You like that?” Adam asks from somewhere between Kris’s legs — Kris isn’t looking at him anymore, closed his eyes at some point, doesn’t remember doing it but he must have — and then he’s brushing his lips over the inside of Kris’s knee and using his shoulder and free hand to spread Kris’s legs further.

Kris whines something incoherent and rocks his hips up, just as Adam pushes another finger into him and twists them all sharply, and Kris sees stars behind his eyelids. Adam is murmuring and panting into Kris’s skin, leaving wet sucking kisses up Kris’s thighs, and his other hand is wrapping around Kris’s dick where it’s leaking, hot and flushed, against his belly, leaving slick smears.

Adam jacks Kris slowly a couple of times, then lets it go again, like all he was doing was proving to Kris he hadn’t forgotten that he has a dick, he’s just more interested in other things at the moment. Like Kris’s _ass_.

That has no right turning Kris on as much as it does.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he mutters, and Adam hums against him.

Kris feels full, so incredibly full, he’s never done more than three fingers before and two of these are _Adam’s_ , and Adam is making these noises while he twists and crooks and spreads their fingers inside Kris, while he mouths at Kris’s skin and leaves pink marks that Kris can feel in raw, dull flashes as Adam presses against them with his other hand.

Then Adam pushes their fingers in _deep_ , sharply, at the same time he draws Kris’s balls into his mouth, and Kris just _loses_ it with a ridiculous noise, coming all over himself without any more attention paid to his cock than the brush of Adam’s hair.

Adam pulls his head away, fingers still thrusting though they’re slowing now, and he stares. “Damn,” he says, his eyes wide and dark and glassy. “Just— God _damn_ , Kris.”

“Adam,” Kris says back, in an embarrassing little whimper, as Adam finally pulls his fingers out.

Adam drags his fingers through the mess on Kris’s stomach, spreading come as he sits back on his heels and fumbles frantically at his own belt without taking his eyes off of Kris.

Kris knows what he must look like, flushed all down his chest with his cock softening on his belly in a sticky pool of cooling semen, his eyes nothing more than drowsy slits, his limbs splayed wantonly wide and two of his own fingers still buried in his ass.

“God,” croaks Adam, shoving his pants down just enough to free his cock — thick and hard and red and shit, so wet already — as he stares. “Jesus fucking goddamn _Christ_ , look at you, fuck, you’re _obscene_.”

Then Adam is blanketing him, pressing his mouth onto Kris’s for quick, sloppy moments before latching it to the meat of Kris’s neck, while his body settles heavy and warm over Kris, the fabric of his clothes rubbing deliciously over Kris’s bare, hypersensitive skin as Adam’s cock slides wet and filthy through the slick of come on Kris’s belly.

They don’t kiss. Adam doesn’t bring their mouths together and Kris is too boneless to even try, can’t actually manage to do anything but lie there twitching his fingers in his hole and wishing he could get hard again already, or could convince his tongue to beg Adam to fuck him, push that cock inside and fuck him properly instead of just rutting against his belly.

But Adam doesn’t last long, only a handful of thrusts really, before he’s spilling over Kris’s belly too, adding his come to the mess already there, with a long, low groan in Kris’s ear that has his back arching automatically, shoving up and trying to get closer to Adam, because it’s the most amazing sound Kris has ever heard, and he wants to go on hearing it forever.

“Adam,” he whispers unevenly, and his fingers slip out too (leaving him feeling loose and empty in a way that aches, low and insistent) as he reaches up to clutch at Adam’s shoulders with both hands.

They stay that way, Adam pushing Kris into the mattress, for what feels like several hours, just breathing, little pants in each other’s ears, while sweat and come and spit cools and dries on their skin and they get more and more stuck together.

Eventually, Adam turns his head, licking the shell of Kris’s ear before pulling back slightly. “You watch gay porn?”

Kris clears his throat, shakes his head a little. “Uhm. Kinda but... but not really.”

Adam rolls them over, so that Kris is draped shameless and loose over his chest. “Explain that,” he says.

“I just— for the ideas, okay,” mutters Kris, tucking his face into Adam’s neck, trying to breathe through the habitual rush of explicit Adam-related fantasies that porn puts in his head. If he didn’t know it’s been beyond his refractory period for years, he’d think he actually was starting to get hard again after all, smushed as his dick is against the satisfyingly solid muscles of Adam’s thigh.

“Ideas?”

“Of— About you,” Kris blurts. He worries at his lower lip with his teeth and admits, “Of ways you could fuck me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” murmurs Adam, his grip on Kris tightening, “I am so, so much better than porn.”

Then he pulls Kris’s head up and kisses him deep and dirty.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://kradamadness.dreamwidth.org/51134.html?thread=6061758#cmt6061758) at kradamadness. Can also be read [here](http://kradamadness.dreamwidth.org/60162.html) on DW.


End file.
